To Be a Winner
by JabberJackson
Summary: When Perla Jansen volunteers for the Hunger Games, she faces her worst nightmeres. She is desperate to get home, not just to patch thing up with her family, but also to convince her best friend not to volunter in the following year. Ladies and Gentelmen, let the fifty-seventh Hunger Games begin!
1. To Be Brave

Chapter One: To Be Brave

My family has always thought that I was a waste of food. Why wouldn't they? We live in District Three, where the only thing we treasure is knowledge. Brains are what builds motors, solves algorithms, and puts food on the table. Anything else is worthless. Being a painter in District Three is like having severe allergies in District Eleven. All it does is interfere with your work. But painting _frees_ me; it releases me from the hellhole I live in. I can paint away the bad, and replace it with green grass and clear blue skies, everything that was taken away with the belching of the factories.

It's not _that_ bad here though, because when it snows, it wipes everything away, leaving only clear white snow behind. However, within a matter of minutes, the smog covers the snow, turning it into the slush I hate so much.

It gets so _boring_ everyday with the same old pattern. There are only two things that break the monotony. My younger sister, Myrrh, is eleven months, six days, and eleven hours old. Her chubby cheeks, flushed with happiness every time I walk in the door, keep me happy thorough out the day. Her blond hair, very uncommon in this District shines in the light, a sharp contrast to her piercing black eyes. She is learning how to talk, and the first word that she ever said was my name, Perla.

Second is my best friend Lillian. We both are outcasts, her because of her mental illness, and me because of my paintings. When she was a little girl, she contracted a disease, a disease that should have been deadly. She survived, but she is no longer able to absorb the same amount of information as everyone else. Most people call her slow, but really, she is just as smart as me. And I am very smart, considering that I grew up in District Three.

We both yearn to leave the scum and squalor of our part of town together, me so I can finally paint, and her so that she can escape the disappointment of never being good enough. So, for four years now, we have trained ourselves for the games. At thirteen years of age, we flushed the ash and smoke out of our lungs, and fought each other with sticks as swords and bits of weighted scrap metal we used as knifes. We are not nearly as good as the Careers, but we are the best hope that our district has to win.

The plan was to wait until either we turn eighteen in three reapings, or until a twelve year-old is reaped. Then, one of us was going to volunteer, win, and save the district with all the parcels of food that come once every month after our victory. However, this will be my last year to volunteer. Lillian and I trade off with the chances to volunteer, and when I am eighteen it will be her year. I need to win the Game this year, so that when she wins next year, the District will have two years of parcels.

Nine years ago, when I was eight, Kumasi Chrome won. Even though I was very little, I will always remember that light in everyone's eyes that appeared when the food came. I was among the children hoarding candy and this sweet yet tart fruit called pineapple. Nine years later I still remember the taste spreading across my tongue. I want the rest of the children of the district to be able to experience what I was able to on that day.

Lillian and I race each other to the reaping stage (I won no matter what she says) where our fluffy (no joke) pink escort is bouncing between the two glass balls, thrilled to be sending two kids to their imminent death.

"Hello ladies and gentlemen?" Everything that she says sounds like she is asking a question. Funny, at first, but it gets very old very quickly. "I'm so very excited to be a part of these games?"

I tune her out, preferring to dwell on what I am going to do after the reaping. My other younger sister, Wiress is turning twelve next week, so I have decided to start training her when I get home from the Games. I will have enough money to buy real knives and swords, so she will be even better trained than me. I quickly snap back into focus again as our escort skips over to the girl's ball. I brace myself, going over what I am about to do.

"Katia Prescott? Where are you Katia Prescott?" This is it; the moment that I have been waiting for. I scan the crowd, hoping that this girl will emerge from the twelve year old section. Because it will be Lillian's turn to volunteer next year, and I am seventeen, I will go into the games this year no matter what. I really want to save a twelve year old in the process.

But no, of course I will not even be allowed this. She is thirteen, though, so at least I save someone younger than myself. I pity her, for she will have to walk all the way to the stage believing that she will die in the next week. Finally, _finally_, the escort asks for volunteers. This is it. I take a deep breath and throw my hand in the air. "I volunteer!" To be brave, one must be ready to face the consequences of your action.


	2. To Say Goodbye

Chapter Two: To Say Goodbye

The stunned silence of the crowd greets me as I walk up onto the stage. Katia still has not processed the fact that she is replaced, and she will not be going into the Hunger Games after all. Our district has not had a volunteer for over sixty years.

I laugh quietly to myself, picturing what will happen when Lillian volunteers next year. One volunteer? Unlikely. Two in consecutive years? Impossible. I give a small push to Katia, who is still standing frozen on the stage. She starts and scurries off the stage as quickly as she can.

"What's your name?" the escort asks, with a stupid simpering expression on her ugly face.

I answer, "My name is Perla Jansen." Quick and simple, just like Lillian and I had rehearsed. None of that macho "Next winner of the Hunger Games" talk like the Careers try to do. We both agree it just makes them look like fools.

The escort has a stunned look on her face, only magnified by the hot pink of her skin. She looks like a fool. "Ladies and Gentlemen please congratulate District Three's newest tribute? Perla Jansen?"

I hadn't expected anything big, but it still stung when not one person clapped. They have all been given plenty of time to accept the fact that the district had a volunteer. A small smattering of applause starts up from the pen where the thirteen year olds are held in. I barely have time to shoot Katia a grateful look before the district erupts in wild applause, honoring me, the girl who just saved one of them. Now _that's _more like it. I feel a smile creeping on my face. Take _that_ Careers. You won't get another easy kill from us this year. Which reminds me—I won't be going into this alone; they still haven't picked the male's name.

The escort, thrilled with the possibility of her district being an actual contender in the Games, bounces over to the ball. This time, instead of plucking a slip off the top, she reaches down deep, savoring the moment of being on television. "Garter Stone?"

Everyone gasps. Garter Stone is the son of the mayor, Amities Stone. Amities is known for his temper, and his readiness to crack the whip at any possible time. Luckily for the district, his traits were not passed down to Garter. Unluckily for me, I am being thrown into a death match with the boy who practically every girl has a huge crush on, including me. What have I gotten myself into?

He walks slowly up to the stage, his posture showing he already considers himself dead. The light has gone out of his deep green eyes and his flaming red hair seems to droop. Taking his place beside me, he scans the crowd, desperately hoping a volunteer will take his spot. He does not have the same luck as Katia.

"Well there they are? Your tributes of District Three?" Before the Peacekeepers guide us off the stage, I take one last glance at the place I call home, knowing it may be my last.

The room I am led to is the nicest I have ever been in. The walls are wood paneled, the chairs covered in what can only be silk. I sink into one, momentarily forgetting why I am here. My bubble is burst seconds later, when my mom, holding Myrrh, and my dad comes bursting into the room.

"How _could _you! How could you do this to our family?" I have never seen my mom so angry. She is always the mellow one; the one who prefers to talk it out. "And Myrrh! What is she supposed to do—just grow up not ever really remembering her older sister?"

My dad puts a hand on her shoulder. "Sweetheart, maybe you need to calm down. I'm sure Perla did what she thought was right." Now he turns, addressing me. "However, what you have done is unacceptable. I am afraid this family cannot accept what you are putting us through."

I gasp in anger and shock. Is he saying what I think he is saying? I stare at him, tears threatening to overflow from my brown eyes. "You mean to say I'm not part of this family anymore? How can you do this? How can you abandon me when I need you the most? I needed your love and support! I wanted to make sure that I had something to return to when I get back!" Now I am crying openly, desperately pleading with my family to give me their blessing.

Mom speaks again. "But that's the problem! How can we be sure you _will_ make it out? Look at you! All you are concerned about is yourself! Don't you realize what you are putting us through? We thought you had more common sense! You don't know the first thing about fighting, and the Careers have trained for this their entire life! You don't stand a chance against them."

I shift around in the chair; so comfortable just minutes ago and now feels like wood. "But I do know how to handle weapons. Lillian and I have been training for years, so we could volunteer and bring food to the district." Saying the plan out loud makes me realize how foolish it sounds. Rushing into a death match, thinking that there is no chance to not win. And we haven't ever really trained with real knives and swords, just sticks. For the first time, I feel a sliver of doubt rush through me, dragging with it thoughts of my death.

"Sticks? _Sticks?_ YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO HANDLE A REAL WEAPON!" I bow my head in shame, knowing they are right. I stand no chance.

The Peacekeeper pokes his head into the room. "Your time is up. Please step outside to allow room for the next visitor." We share one last look before they turn away. "I love you!" I call out desperately, hoping that they will change their mind. Nothing that my family had said to me before compared to when they just kept walking, and never looked back.

I stay in the room for what feels like hours, with only my tears for company. Then Lillian walks into the room. I run over to her and collapse into her arms.

"I take it you family didn't take the news very well?"

I laugh shakily. "That's an understatement. They basically disowned me right when I needed them the most."

She looks at me with pity. "If it makes you feel any better…I'm proud of you. And when you come home, I'll be right there waiting for you."

Just like always, Lillian knows exactly what to say to make me feel better. "Thank you Lillian. I'm going to miss you so much in there. Just remember—whatever you see on that screen—don't think of me as a monster. You see what happens every year; the Games _changes_ people. Knowing that my family won't be here when I get back is bad enough. I wouldn't be able to stand knowing that I disgust you too."

She stares at me, and then cracks a small smile. "You could never disgust me. So don't think that ever again. I will be there when you get back waiting for you. Now go out there and kick some butts!" Suddenly we both burst out laughing. We laugh because it's not funny what the Capital makes us do. We laugh because we are both so sad. After sharing one last heartfelt hug, she walks out the door. To say goodbye, you must first be missed.


	3. To Have A Friend

Chapter Three: To Have A Friend

I was led (forced) to the train platform after Lillian left. A million thoughts were swirling through my head, mostly about my family and what I would do after I returned from the Games. Naturally, Lillian will come and live with me in Victor's Village, until she has a house of her own.

I had always assumed my family would come live there too, but after the less then cordial goodbye we shared, I wasn't sure if they would accept my invitation. In fact, I wasn't even sure I would invite them to stay with me, after what they said today. I really needed them to come through for me, but all they did was to scorn my ideas and give me up for dead.

The train is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. The outside of the train is a type of metal I have never seen before, and shines brightly in the sun. Each door handle is solid gold, perched on silver doors. The furniture is carpeted in velvet, and the carpet is plush and soft, giving slightly under my feet with each step. The windows sparkle, studded with what can only be diamonds.

But the best thing is the room I stay in. I have a closet as big as my house back home, and when I open it, there is more clothes than all of the people in District Three has combined. I run my hand through them, relishing the silkiness of the fabric. There is also a television in my room, but it is not like the one our family shares with the neighbors. This one is huge, taking up half of the wall, and has no static clouding the pictures. I step into the bathroom, and am greeted with a huge crystal shower, and _buttons!_

The buttons are everywhere, each programed to do something else. If I had my father's toolbox with me, I could dismantle them in less than a minute, and explore their contents. I walk over to a random one and press it. With a hiss, the shower turns on. I press the one next to it, and the intensity of which the water was coming out goes up. Laughing, I step in, and am greeted with _warm water_.

We almost never get warm water in District Three. Only the mayor's house has it, and with his temper, no one likes to go near him. Some boys at school, who are friends of Garter, used to sneak in and take one, but that stopped when one got caught. He was told that he would not be paid at his job for a month. His whole family, including himself, starved.

An hour and a half later, I step out of the shower, clean for the first time in my life. To be honest, even if I die in the Games, this is worth it. People are catering to my every need, and I am living the life of a Capitolite. But I know that I still need to get back— not to my family, but to Lillian. I laugh, knowing that she would love the combination of lemon, sage, mint, blueberry, chocolate, cherry, and cupcake that I smell like after the shower. My stomach rumbles, reminding me I need to find the dining cart before the escort (I really need to find out her name) gets there.

I quickly place my hands on a silver orb, which dries and straightens my hair, without the tugging it normally requires. Choosing my outfit is harder than expected; there are so many options. Finally, I select a green, loose shirt, leggings, and white ballet flats. I wander around the train for a bit, until the escort shows me where the dining cart is. I walk in, and the first thing I see is the food.

As a child of a family slightly wealthier than everyone else, I have never gone to bed hungry. However, the food we eat does not taste very good. This, however, looks like tiny, edible sculptures. They should be displayed, not eaten; they're works of art! I see Garter, balancing three plates on his hands, wobbling over to the table. I grab my own plate and heap it with everything in reach, like pancakes, covered with different colors of jam and jelly. Tiny muffins sit atop a pad of butter, drizzled with a lemon butter sauce. Sausages stuffed with herbs and strawberries.

I cram about ten different things into my mouth, before I become aware that _Garter Stone_ is sitting right next to me, with his leg almost touching mine. I stop eating immediately, instead choosing to stare at Garter's profile. His sparkling green eyes, his brownish-reddish hair, his perfect mouth…

"What are you looking at?" Oh no. This is not good. I tear my eyes away from his mouth, and look straight at him.

"I'm sorry," I stammer. "I guess I just kind of zoned out there for a second." I give a weak smile and hope that he buys my story.

He looks at me and laughs. "Don't we all. I was zoning out when Rubia called my name at the reaping." His face darkens as he remembers exactly where we are.

"So that's her name. I've just been calling her 'the escort' in my mind. I was worried that she would ever directly talk to me and I wouldn't know her name." He laughs again, so I take it as a good sign and continue. "Who came to say goodbye…you know, after the reaping."

"Just my mom and my brother, Hallo. Mom was crying and wished me luck, but Hallo was too young to realize I was going into the Games. I just told him that I needed to go away for a while, and to be good while I was gone."

"Did your dad not come?" I feel guilty asking this, because the whole District knows he and his dad are not on the best of terms.

He laughs bitterly. "My dad was probably glad that I was reaped. I was such a disappointment to him. By the way, I just wanted to say that you were really brave for volunteering. I know Katia's family, and she is their pride and joy. I don't know what they would do if she had to go in."

"I'm just happy that I could save her," I say, trying to act like it was no big deal and that I go around saving other people daily. On the inside though, I was exploding with pride. I think that Garter liked me. To have a friend, one must have thing in common.

* * *

**A/N Okay, so I don't know if anyone is out there reading this, so far I have only gotten one review (Thank you so much** .Night **it really made my day) so I don't know if I should continue this story. Please let me know.**

**Also, I have decided to make a game called Complete the Sentence. Basically I will put down half of a sentence and whoever completes it in the funniest way will be recognized in the story, AND receive an invisible cookie. Today's sentence is…**

_**You are walking in the woods in the middle of nowhere, when a man steps out from behind a tree. All you have is your dog, and an ornamental tree. He has a knife. You…**_

**Remember to submit your answer in a review!**

**~ JabberJackson**


	4. To Figure Out the Tributes

**A/N- Okay, so I **_**have**_** decided to continue the story, **_**but**_** I was sad about the number of answers for Complete the Sentence. I'll give you three guesses as to how many… zero. That's right—zero. However .Night did review, telling me to continue the story, so you have her to thank for that. (Also I noticed that in the last chapter, your name came up only as .Night, so I am sorry for that.) If you are one of the people reading this, but not reviewing, PLEASE review. You don't know how happy that makes me feel. I have a proposal for you: If I get three—only **_**three (**_**or more )—reviews on this chapter, I will make a guest chapter, where**_** you**_** will get to write the chapter. Remember- PLEASE REVIEW.**

Chapter Four: To Figure Out the Tributes

After I finished talking with Garter, I headed back to my room and changed for bed. It took fifteen minutes to decide what to wear, just because there were so many options. I finally decided on a pair of sky blue pajama pants, made out of the softest cotton, and a white tank top. Remembering what Rubia said about watching the recaps of the reapings, I pull my hair into a messy bun, and head to the television room.

I get there before Garter does, so I just sit back on the chair and wait for him to show up. I think about what he said, how he thinks that his father wants him dead. My father is cold and distant, always at work. Even when he's home, he doesn't talk much. However, we all know that he loves us, and would do anything for us. I can't imagine having a father that didn't love me, and wished me dead. I feel so bad for Garter, who has never known a father's love.

Realizing how long it's been, I try to find the remote by myself, because I cannot miss the reaping recap. This is where I will learn what I am up against, and who I have to beat. The reaping is the one place that you can't hide your emotions, so I will see who everyone is. Finally locating the remote, I turn on the T.V. I need to especially watch the Careers, because they are part of my master plan.

Lillian and I worked out the plan when we first started training. When we go into the games, I will join the careers, and then four days in the Games, I will kill them in them sleep. I know that it sounds heartless, but really, the Careers aren't real people. Every year, they slaughter innocent children in the most horrific way they can imagine. I would also be helping me, because without the Careers, nothing will stand in between me and victory.

Just as the commentator finishes the introduction, Garter sprints into the room, panting. He sees me and smiles. Then he looks around at the empty room, and his smile changes into confusion.

"Did I miss anything? Where's everyone else? I thought I was late." He sits down on the chair next to me and his breathing starts to return to normal.

"Calm down," I laugh. "District One is about to start. And now that you mention it, I have no idea where Rubia is. You know, I don't think that this whole layout is really fair. Every other district has a mentor, but we don't because we aren't trained enough to ever win. We are at a severe disadvantage."

Garter thinks for a moment. "Well not really, because if you think about it, we will be in the arena, and they would be out here, so they wouldn't be able to do anything for us. Rubia will be able to get us sponsors, so we are just as well off as the rest of the tributes. Oh, look! The District One escort is about to start!" We both stop talking and look at the screen.

District One's escort is a short, thin woman with diamonds inlaid in her skin. She bounces over to the girl's ball, so packed full with slips she has trouble getting her hand in it. The children of District One never have to fear being reaped, because someone will volunteer every year, so they take as much tereasse as possible to feed their families. Diamond, which is what I have started calling her in my head, shoves a birdlike claw into the bowl and pulls out a slip.

"Sprinkle Ret?" A tall and muscular girl makes her way up to the stage from the fifteen year old section. She looks calm, knowing that someone will volunteer for her. She takes her place beside Diamond and looks out at the crowd.

Diamond reaches into the second bowl and pulls out the boy's name.

"Kye Stone?" A tall, stocky boy, or man, emerges from the eighteen year old pen. He storms up to the stage, and glares at Sprinkle. The escort smiles and bounces back to the middle of stage.

"Are there any volunteers for Sprinkle? Who wants to have a chance to win the Hunger Games this year?" A girl steps out from the seventeen year section.

"I volunteer!" She strides up to the stage and replaces Sprinkle. "I am Shine Karr, the next winner of the Hunger Games!" Even Diamond almost rolls her eyes at that statement, but stops herself just in time. She turns to Kye, who has a scowl on his face.

"And will there be any volunteers for this lovely, young gentleman?" Three eighteen year olds step forward, but Kye stops them.

"If anyone volunteers for me, I'll rip out their throats!" This time, Diamond cannot suppress a shudder.

"All right then, looks like we have our two District One tributes… Shine and Kye!

I turn to Garter, and we both share a horrified look. District Two is normally harder to beat then District One, and District One looks hard enough. I look at the clock and see that it's already 11:00. Meeting my prep team tomorrow will be hard enough with lots of sleep, so I decide to go to bed after District Four. Garter will tell me if there's anyone else that's a threat.

District Two is a sharp contrast to District One. Here, everything is grey, and cold. But I can't criticize, because they produce the best Careers of anyone else. Even their escort is normal, a tall man whose only Capital thing about him is a neon orange shirt. He calmly walks over to the bowl and pulls out a name.

"Sage Burst?" A small thirteen year old walks up the stage, with no trace of fear in her eyes because she knows that someone will volunteer. District Two has had a volunteer every year but the first Hunger Games, and even then their boy became the Victor.

Their escort then dips his hand into the next bowl, and pulls out the second name.

"This time, a fifteen year old walks up, and takes his place on the stage. The escort does not even have time to call for volunteers before Sage is replaced with Thyme Brooks, and Claude by Stone Hartwell. Both are eighteen, very fit, and outweigh me by at least fifty pounds. They shake hands, and we move on to District Three.

Garter stands up and stretches.

"I don't know about you, but I've relived our reapings too many times. Do you want to go see what cool drinks the kitchen has?" I think for a moment, and then agree. As much as I want to see my performance at the reapings, I wanted to hang out with Garter more.

I catch up to him in the dining cart, where he has already ordered two drinks. They are clear, like water, but they have small bubbles floating up from the bottom. I eye them warily.

"It's okay to drink," Garter says noticing my confusion. "It's called soda. You're supposed to drink it as fast as you can, otherwise it tastes bad." He gives me an encouraging smile, and motions for me to chug it. I shrug, pick up the glass, and swallow it as fast as I can. I immediately choke, and soda comes flying out of my nose. Garter cracks up, and I glare at him.

"You're supposed to take small sips, aren't you." He is laughing too hard to answer. I pick up the glass again, and take a small sip. It tastes pretty good, like lemons and limes mixed together. Garter finally stops laughing.

"It's called Sprite. The expression on your face when it came flying out of your nose was _priceless_!" I laugh along too. It must have been pretty funny to see.

"I think I've had enough soda for today. Let's head back to the T.V. District Four must be coming on now. We head back to the room, just in time to hear a seventeen year old girl, Lydia Welty, volunteer for her sister, Gracie Welty. There are no volunteers for the boy, Toby Young.

I turn to Garter, "I'm going to bed because I will need a full night's sleep to face the prep team tomorrow. Do you think you could tell me if anyone looks like a threat?" He nods, so I head back to my room and sink into the bed. To figure out the tributes, you know how to read emotions.

**A/N: Remember to review your answer to Complete the Sentence!**

_**You are walking in the woods in the middle of nowhere, when a man steps out from behind a tree. All you have is your dog, and an ornamental tree. He has a knife. You…**_

**REVIEW! I know you want too… **


	5. To Be Made Over

**A/N- Okay, so I **_**have**_** decided to continue the story, **_**but**_** I was sad about the number of answers for Complete the Sentence. I'll give you three guesses as to how many… zero. That's right—zero. However .Night did review, telling me to continue the story, so you have her to thank for that. (Also I noticed that in the last chapter, your name came up only as .Night, so I am sorry for that.) If you are one of the people reading this, but not reviewing, PLEASE review. You don't know how happy that makes me feel. I have a proposal for you: If I get three—only **_**three (**_**or more )—reviews on this chapter, I will make a guest chapter, where**_** you**_** will get to write the chapter. Remember- PLEASE REVIEW.**

Chapter Four: To Figure Out the Tributes

After I finished talking with Garter, I headed back to my room and changed for bed. It took fifteen minutes to decide what to wear, just because there were so many options. I finally decided on a pair of sky blue pajama pants, made out of the softest cotton, and a white tank top. Remembering what Rubia said about watching the recaps of the reapings, I pull my hair into a messy bun, and head to the television room.

I get there before Garter does, so I just sit back on the chair and wait for him to show up. I think about what he said, how he thinks that his father wants him dead. My father is cold and distant, always at work. Even when he's home, he doesn't talk much. However, we all know that he loves us, and would do anything for us. I can't imagine having a father that didn't love me, and wished me dead. I feel so bad for Garter, who has never known a father's love.

Realizing how long it's been, I try to find the remote by myself, because I cannot miss the reaping recap. This is where I will learn what I am up against, and who I have to beat. The reaping is the one place that you can't hide your emotions, so I will see who everyone is. Finally locating the remote, I turn on the T.V. I need to especially watch the Careers, because they are part of my master plan.

Lillian and I worked out the plan when we first started training. When we go into the games, I will join the careers, and then four days in the Games, I will kill them in them sleep. I know that it sounds heartless, but really, the Careers aren't real people. Every year, they slaughter innocent children in the most horrific way they can imagine. I would also be helping me, because without the Careers, nothing will stand in between me and victory.

Just as the commentator finishes the introduction, Garter sprints into the room, panting. He sees me and smiles. Then he looks around at the empty room, and his smile changes into confusion.

"Did I miss anything? Where's everyone else? I thought I was late." He sits down on the chair next to me and his breathing starts to return to normal.

"Calm down," I laugh. "District One is about to start. And now that you mention it, I have no idea where Rubia is. You know, I don't think that this whole layout is really fair. Every other district has a mentor, but we don't because we aren't trained enough to ever win. We are at a severe disadvantage."

Garter thinks for a moment. "Well not really, because if you think about it, we will be in the arena, and they would be out here, so they wouldn't be able to do anything for us. Rubia will be able to get us sponsors, so we are just as well off as the rest of the tributes. Oh, look! The District One escort is about to start!" We both stop talking and look at the screen.

District One's escort is a short, thin woman with diamonds inlaid in her skin. She bounces over to the girl's ball, so packed full with slips she has trouble getting her hand in it. The children of District One never have to fear being reaped, because someone will volunteer every year, so they take as much tereasse as possible to feed their families. Diamond, which is what I have started calling her in my head, shoves a birdlike claw into the bowl and pulls out a slip.

"Sprinkle Ret?" A tall and muscular girl makes her way up to the stage from the fifteen year old section. She looks calm, knowing that someone will volunteer for her. She takes her place beside Diamond and looks out at the crowd.

Diamond reaches into the second bowl and pulls out the boy's name.

"Kye Stone?" A tall, stocky boy, or man, emerges from the eighteen year old pen. He storms up to the stage, and glares at Sprinkle. The escort smiles and bounces back to the middle of stage.

"Are there any volunteers for Sprinkle? Who wants to have a chance to win the Hunger Games this year?" A girl steps out from the seventeen year section.

"I volunteer!" She strides up to the stage and replaces Sprinkle. "I am Shine Karr, the next winner of the Hunger Games!" Even Diamond almost rolls her eyes at that statement, but stops herself just in time. She turns to Kye, who has a scowl on his face.

"And will there be any volunteers for this lovely, young gentleman?" Three eighteen year olds step forward, but Kye stops them.

"If anyone volunteers for me, I'll rip out their throats!" This time, Diamond cannot suppress a shudder.

"All right then, looks like we have our two District One tributes… Shine and Kye!

I turn to Garter, and we both share a horrified look. District Two is normally harder to beat then District One, and District One looks hard enough. I look at the clock and see that it's already 11:00. Meeting my prep team tomorrow will be hard enough with lots of sleep, so I decide to go to bed after District Four. Garter will tell me if there's anyone else that's a threat.

District Two is a sharp contrast to District One. Here, everything is grey, and cold. But I can't criticize, because they produce the best Careers of anyone else. Even their escort is normal, a tall man whose only Capital thing about him is a neon orange shirt. He calmly walks over to the bowl and pulls out a name.

"Sage Burst?" A small thirteen year old walks up the stage, with no trace of fear in her eyes because she knows that someone will volunteer. District Two has had a volunteer every year but the first Hunger Games, and even then their boy became the Victor.

Their escort then dips his hand into the next bowl, and pulls out the second name.

"This time, a fifteen year old walks up, and takes his place on the stage. The escort does not even have time to call for volunteers before Sage is replaced with Thyme Brooks, and Claude by Stone Hartwell. Both are eighteen, very fit, and outweigh me by at least fifty pounds. They shake hands, and we move on to District Three.

Garter stands up and stretches.

"I don't know about you, but I've relived our reapings too many times. Do you want to go see what cool drinks the kitchen has?" I think for a moment, and then agree. As much as I want to see my performance at the reapings, I wanted to hang out with Garter more.

I catch up to him in the dining cart, where he has already ordered two drinks. They are clear, like water, but they have small bubbles floating up from the bottom. I eye them warily.

"It's okay to drink," Garter says noticing my confusion. "It's called soda. You're supposed to drink it as fast as you can, otherwise it tastes bad." He gives me an encouraging smile, and motions for me to chug it. I shrug, pick up the glass, and swallow it as fast as I can. I immediately choke, and soda comes flying out of my nose. Garter cracks up, and I glare at him.

"You're supposed to take small sips, aren't you." He is laughing too hard to answer. I pick up the glass again, and take a small sip. It tastes pretty good, like lemons and limes mixed together. Garter finally stops laughing.

"It's called Sprite. The expression on your face when it came flying out of your nose was _priceless_!" I laugh along too. It must have been pretty funny to see.

"I think I've had enough soda for today. Let's head back to the T.V. District Four must be coming on now. We head back to the room, just in time to hear a seventeen year old girl, Lydia Welty, volunteer for her sister, Gracie Welty. There are no volunteers for the boy, Toby Young.

I turn to Garter, "I'm going to bed because I will need a full night's sleep to face the prep team tomorrow. Do you think you could tell me if anyone looks like a threat?" He nods, so I head back to my room and sink into the bed. To figure out the tributes, you know how to read emotions.

**A/N: Remember to review your answer to Complete the Sentence!**

_**You are walking in the woods in the middle of nowhere, when a man steps out from behind a tree. All you have is your dog, and an ornamental tree. He has a knife. You…**_

**REVIEW! I know you want too… **


	6. To Betray A Trust

** Not a single review for chapter five, which made me sad, so I have decided that there has to be at least two reviews for every chapter, until the bloodbath, or else there will not be a guest chapter. Also, like I said in the last chapter, all outcomes base on how many reviews there are, so I can guarantee that this will not be a happy chapter. So, without further ado, Chapter Six!**

Chapter Six: To Betray A Trust

I stare in the mirror, and like what I see. My red hair has been brushed and shined, so it lies on my shoulders like a metal sheet. My dress is copper, and clings to my body in all the right places. There is a gold sash on the waistline, and silver numbers are stitched on all over the dress. Deep bronze high heels make me look two inches taller, and a silver headband graces my head. I am a walking computer memory card.

I look at Petal, and smile. "Thank you. It's perfect."

Petal blushes at the praise, but smiles, clearly happy I like it. "Oh it was nothing dear, I'm just glad you like it. Now hurry up before you miss the chariots!"

I thank her one more time, then walk out the door. I run into Garter in the hallway. He is wearing a suit made with the same copper material, with the silver numbers. He looks at me and…blushes?

"Hey Perla," he says. "You look good. More than good, really. You look great."

I smile at him and motion to his outfit. "You look very dashing yourself. Now let's get out there and blind the Capitolites with our stunning beauty." Garter laughs as I imitate the dramatic hand motions everyone in the Capital seems to use.

We walk into the room filled with all the tributes and chariots, and locate our own horse. Just when I'm about to walk over, Garter puts his hand on my shoulder, and tells me to wait. "I forgot to tell you the threats from the reapings."

I had forgotten all about that also. I nod, telling him to continue. He points to the Careers. "Well, obviously, the Careers are a threat, you saw their reapings." He moves his finger to the District Five chariot. "The girl is fourteen, and the boy, Spark, is twelve. Neither are threats. Both of the District Six tributes are sixteen, and not a threat. The girl from District Seven is also not a threat, but the boy is eighteen, and very strong."

I look over at their chariot, and even from a distance, see the boy's muscles. "What's his name?" I ask Garter.

He thinks for a moment, and then responds. "Oak. Oak Longer. His little brother tried to volunteer, but Oak shot him down. Same thing happened to District Eleven girl, except the older sibling didn't shoot her down. The girl's thirteen, and her name's Dahlia. District Twelve is their usual pathetic self."

I nod, feeling like I now know the competition. "Thanks Garter. That means a lot to me." I wave goodbye, and decide to head over to the Career's chariots to socialize. I need them to like me if they will let me join their group. They're all clustered by the District One chariot, so I head over there.

The first person to see me is Thyme Brooks, from District Two. "Hey look everyone," she sneers. "It's that tiny, mad scientist who thought it would be cool to volunteer." Lydia, from District Four, snickers, but Toby, her district partner, just looks at me curiously.

"What are you doing here," Toby asks. "This is for Careers only."

This is it—my big moment. I need to get into this group if I'm going to survive these games. "I know it's only for Careers. That's why I'm here. I want to join."

They all stare at me before bursting out in laughter. "You? Join?" Stone jeers. "Look at you! You're barely 100 pounds! And you think you would be a good addition to the Careers? Think again shrimp." I need to do something bold and dangerous to make them let me in.

Without batting an eye, I grab Shine's arm and twist it behind her back, forcing her to bend over. I then slash her throat with my finger, and whisper in her ear, "You're dead." I then address the group. "And _that's _why you should let me join. I've trained for this just like you." _But I'm not one of you. You're monsters,_ I think.

Kye, who seems to be the leader, nods. "Okay. You can join us. But you are the Omega, the least important. If someone goes, it will be you, understand?" I nod, to let him know I do.

Toby smiles, and says, "Welcome to the group Perla!" I thank him, and head back to my chariot, knowing that my work here is done. Garter is waiting for me, and glaring at me so hard you would think I just sliced him open with a knife. I look at him with confusion, and question, "What? Did I do something?"

He looks at me in horror. "What do you mean? You are hanging around a bunch of bloodthirsty Careers like a puppy begging for scraps! You do know who they are, right? You know what they do? So why in the world would you talk to them? They're monsters." He finishes his rant, and looks towards me for answers I do not have.

"Garter, I did what I had to do to survive. I joined them, but I am not like them. Back at home, my friend and I trained so we could help District Three—your _home_. I'm not a monster, I will be a hero." He glares at me with scorn.

"You've _trained_? You volunteered; you are _planning_ on killing, so I don't see how you are not a monster. What will you do, slaughter that twelve years old boy, Spark, from District Five? You're not a hero, you are a Career. I thought we were friends. I can't believe I ever had a crush on you." He storms away from me.

Whoa. Stop. Rewind. Pause. Garter had a crush on me? Or, I guess he _used_ to have a crush on me. I know I've trained, but that doesn't make me one of them, does it? I'll be helping everyone; the Careers don't deserve to live. But when he puts it like that, I can see how I would be perceived as a monster.

The bell rings, signaling the time to step into our chariots. Garter meets me back at the chariot, put purposefully does not respond when I offer a timid, "I'm sorry." Deciding not to let it bother me, I climb into the chariot, and prepare to meet the Capitol. Shine and Kye roll out, and are greeted to thunderous applause, as is Stone and Thyme.

The annoying thing about District Three is that we are dwarfed in comparison to the Career districts on either side of us. We are the district that needs to pass before another Career is up. I knew I needed to be different, if anyone would pay attention to me, but Petal has done that for me with the dress.

We roll out, and the applause is timid, but grows louder. I hear chants for Garter, some lingering ones for Stone and Thyme, but the main chant is my name. I wave out at the crowd, giving them what they want. I throw kisses, and riots break out where they land. I transform from small, District Three painter, to a deadly, beautiful Career. And I embrace the change.

To betray a trust, one must have had a trust to betray.


	7. FILLER

Hey all! I just remembered the password to this account! I'm working on a story on my new account, TrackerJackson, but, to keep this story going, I will have the guest chapter be the next chapter! Because of her constant reviewing and nice PM's, I will be rewarding the guest chapter toooooo…. CRICKET THE CLARINETIST! If you want the chapter, PM me, and I will PM you the guidelines! CONGRATS!


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